


Complete, Utter Cluelessness, and Other Extreme Sports

by supersadface



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst with a Happy Ending, Beverly Marsh Knows Everything, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Drunk Kissing, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone lives in one house because I said so, Fighting as an excuse to reveal feelings, Fluff, Gay men struggling with their emotions, Idiots in Love, M/M, Matchmaker Beverly Marsh, Partying, Richie Tozier Being a Dumbass, Richie being cute, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, eddie being cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-01-05 12:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21208283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersadface/pseuds/supersadface
Summary: Richie and the gang go to some stupid frat party, at which Eddie gets blackout drunk and kisses him. And because Richie is a very smart 20-year-old man, he's sure that Eddie will regret this fact, and therefore never tells him. To protect him. Or something. This......doesn't work out for him. But also it does, in the best way possible.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be super short, I swear. Also this is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own! CW for VERY brief description of a panic attack, seriously it's hardly even there but I want everyone to stay safe <3

Richie is so fucking done. He’s at this dumb ass college party fucking  _ sober _ because it’s his turn to be the DD, and as everybody knows, nobody wants to be at a dumb ass college party without being _Fucked.Up._

Without the booze, these kinds of things are just hot, smelly, and miserable, and every single other person is having a better time than you are.

Bev is on the couch next to him, sitting prettily and talking to someone she knows from one of her classes, only occasionally making heart-eyes at Ben over on the dancefloor. She’ll get tipsy enough that it's not socially acceptable for her to drive, but she never gets really drunk at these parties because she has too much dignity to be sloppy in such a public context. Bev, Richie can handle.

Stan, Bill, Mike, and Ben are all dancing to the shitty, loud pop music over in the cleared-out living room, sober enough that they’ve still got moves but drunk enough that they can’t stop giggling while they do them. He can handle them, too. 

Eddie, on the other hand, is  _ sloppy _ ass drunk. Like, vomiting into a houseplant drunk (which he hasn’t done yet tonight, but isn’t unheard of in his usual drunken antics). Not that Richie’s judging - he’s usually even worse than Eddie is, and he  _ loves _ the shenanigans they get into when they’ve both had more than a few shots too many. But Richie’s had zero shots at this fucking thing, and therefore Eddie’s behavior has him one part jealous and two parts annoyed as hell. He’s on Richie’s other side, leaning all of his weight on him and loudly complaining that no one will drink with him, and Richie's about to pop a fucking blood vessel in his forehead. 

“I told you, Eds, I’ve already hit my one-beer-limit! I’m your ride home, remember _ ? _ How the fuck am I gonna get us all to the house in one piece if I end up as hammered as you are?”

Richie always lets himself have one drink when he’s on DD duty, mostly so he gets to feel like he’s drinking with everyone else, but that one drink was the Corona he had when they got here 2 hours ago, and he’s never mourned its loss more than he is right now, begging Eddie to shut the fuck up.

“We’ll take an Uber!” Eddie shouts. He’s so loud when he’s drunk. Richie loves him.

“How the fuck are we gonna take an Uber, dumb ass? I drove my car here, and I’m  _ not _ leaving it in the frat parking lot to get pissed on by drunk assholes all night.”

“It’s probably already been pissed on by drunk assholes, drink with meee!”

He’s now fully draped over Richie’s lap, whining dramatically and flailing his arms out, and Richie, through stifled laughter, is trying to shove him off.

“Get” -grunt- “OFF” -grunt- “of” -grunt- “me!” He laughs, trying and failing to return Eddie to his spot on the couch.

“You’re not being a very good best friend right now,” Eddie complains casually, as if he hasn’t even noticed Richie’s attempts at dislodging him - maybe he hasn’t.

“I’m never a good best friend, that's one of my charms,” Richie laughs, giving up and throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees in a sigh, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Richie’s stomach.

The very same stomach that is, at this very moment, being absolutely fucking demolished by butterflies. He needs to get Eddie off of him before he pops a boner and makes them  _ all _ uncomfortable. Bev’s giving him a look like she knows exactly what he’s thinking (she does), and she raises her eyebrows at Eddie laying in his lap. 

_ Shut the fuck up, _ He mouths with a subtle middle finger thrown in for good measure.

_ He loves you _ , She mouths back, or maybe she’s saying  _ Cheese Kung Fu _ , but either way she’s being fucking ridiculous, so he rolls his eyes. 

Eddie does  _ not _ love him. That’s just a dream Richie’s had floating around in his head since, oh he doesn’t know,  _ forever _ ? It’s not reality, as much as he wishes it were. He’s been in love with Eddie more or less since the day they met - that’s actually how he found out he’s gay - but Eddie has never returned those feelings. And Richie’s fine with that, really. Sure, it keeps him up at night knowing he’ll never find love because Eddie’s the only person he’s ever wanted, and sure, it makes for awkward moments like these, where he has to worry whether he’ll get a boner while his best friend is sprawling on his lap, but really, it’s fine! Okay that was a fucking lie, it fucking  _ sucks _ . But he’s used to it. He’s lived most of his life knowing Eddie will never love him back, and he knows that’s never going to change. So Bev really needs to stop being such a dick about it.

“Alright, that’s it Eds, time to go.” 

“What? Nooooo! No c’mon we just  _ got _ here!”

“Eddie, we’ve been here for two hours.” Richie informs him in his most unimpressed voice.

“Wait….what? Really?” That seems to bring Eddie up short. Jesus Christ.

“Yes, really. So c’mon, let’s go beddie-bye before you do something to  _ really  _ embarrass yourself.”

Eddie protests weakly, but by the time Richie gets him to his feet he’s leaning so hard on Richie for support that he really can’t argue much. Bev gets up as if to join them, but Richie waves her off.

“Don’t worry about it, you guys can stay a little longer. I’ll get Eddie to bed and swing back for you”.

Eddie walks to the car surprisingly easily, but Richie’s pretty sure he falls asleep the minute he’s in his seat. This makes for a peaceful drive home, most of which he spends staring at the comatose patient riding shotgun. Probably a dangerous amount of time. Okay, so he almost hits a tree, and about five other drivers. But he doesn’t! Eddie just looks so cute passed out in the passenger seat - he’s wearing what Richie’s almost positive is one of his shirts, and the way his hair flops over his eyes? Fucking Christ he’s fucking screwed. He basically has to drag Eddie out of the car and into the house they share with Stan, Bill, Mike, Ben, and Bev. It’s a big place near campus that they split the rent on so it’s almost manageable, and he loves living with all of his best friends  _ almost _ all of the time. Like now, for instance, because he gets the immense pleasure of tucking Eddie in. 

Eddie, who is just now coming awake as Richie tries to wrangle him fully-clothed into bed. The "good-bro" thing to do here would be to help him out of his jeans so he’s more comfortable, but given the way he feels about him, that seems a little inappropriate. He knows that if Eddie had any idea about the big, gay crush he has on him, he’d probably feel a little differently about letting Richie undress him. Anyhow, Eddie’s probably way too drunk to care much, so it’s a moot point.

Richie heads to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and some aspirin to hopefully stave off Eddie's impending hangover, and when he comes back Eddie’s sitting up in bed, back in full on complaint-mode.

“Alright bud, drink this before you go to bed.”

“I’m not even tired, Rich!”

“Yeah, that’s because you decided to take a nap in my truck, dumb ass. But the more sleep you get, the better you’ll feel in the morning. Speaking of which: water, now.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie does as he’s told, for once. Geez he’s sassy when he’s drunk, but then again, he’s sassy all the time. Richie fetches a second glass of water, which he forces him to drink as well, and then finally a third, which he leaves on the nightstand with the aspirin for tomorrow. Through all of this, Eddie’s kinda just…looking at him, and it makes him nervous. He lives most of his life making sure Eddie pays as little attention as possible to the things he does, hoping it’ll keep his secret safe; having his unwavering attention is concerning, and he feels like he could do something to fuck himself over at any moment, so he makes for a hasty exit.

“Now listen here fuckface, I’m gonna go pick up our friends. Do not, under any circumstances, get out of this bed and get up to do more stupid drunk shit. Go. The hell. To sleep.” He pushes Eddie’s chest into the mattress for effect, and turns to flick off the lightswitch and leave.

“Wait, c’mere!” Eddie whines, motioning for Richie to get closer.

With a puzzled look, he does, taking a step back towards the bed and raising his eyebrows in question.

“No, come  _ here _ , like closer.”

Richie walks back to the bed, leaning over Eddie when he indicates that’s what he wants. Is he gonna try and headbutt him so he can escape? Ed’s never been a violent drunk, but he’s devious in all states of being, so Richie tries to be ready for whatever stunt his best friend is about to pull. He is definitely fucking  _ not _ ready for what happens next.

Eddie pushes up surprisingly sturdily on one arm and leans up the foot or so between their faces to press their lips together, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of Richie’s head and threading his fingers through the thick curls there. And because Richie is a weak, weak, weak, weak, weak,  _ weak _ man, he lets him. Just for half a minute, but still it’s more than he should allow. But  _ fuck _ , man, this is all he’s wanted for pretty much as long as he’s wanted stuff, period, so sue him.

Eddie's kissing him urgently, but not roughly. It's tender enough to make his heart thump painfully in his chest, if a little sloppy. Eddie makes this whining sound in the back of his throat when Richie presses into the kiss, and holy shit Richie's never been so fucking turned on in his  _ life _ . He's hard as a fucking rock, which is embarrassing as hell because he's only been kissing Eddie for like 30 seconds, but honestly he's so psyched, he could come in his pants right now and he'd thank God for the opportunity.

However, he knows it's time to stop when Eddie puts his tongue is his mouth. That sounds kind of counter-intuitive, right? Because that's the part that makes the kiss, like, 10x hotter, yeah? But that's the problem: Richie knows when he feels Eddie's tongue move hotly against his own that he could lose himself in this for the rest of the night, climbing on top of Eddie and kissing him breathless until one of them falls asleep or dies. And that's what he desperately,  _ desperately _ , wants to do. But Eddie's  _ skunked _ , man, so out of it he can't walk straight, and Richie knows that if he were sober this would never be happening. Hell, Eddie would be  _ horrified _ if he found out he got totally drunk and made out with Richie. And if he found out Richie let him keep doing it? 

He'd probably never speak to him again. 

The fear that shoots through his veins at that thought has him jolting away from Eddie like he's been shocked, staggering back until he hits the doorframe, leaning against it and gulping in a few shuddering breaths. Eddie hardly notices - he just smiles sleepily and lays back down against the pillows, muttering a quiet "g'night, Richie" before promptly passing out again. And Richie is freaking the  _ fuck _ out. 

He's shaking so hard he can hardly keep himself upright, and he can't pull in a full breath of air. Is this what a panic attack feels like?  _ Fuck _ this is a panic attack, isn't it? He's having a fucking panic attack! Great, this is just  _ great _ . A  _ fucking  _ panic attack. Great. He feels like he's been doused in ice water, the bliss from earlier completely vanished. How could he just let that happen? Eddie is gonna be  _ so  _ pissed - no, not pissed;  _ disgusted _ .  _ Horrified _ . Richie needs to get out of here, like,  _ now. _

He practically sprints back to his truck, jumping into the driver's seat and shutting the door hard behind him. He takes at least 5 tries to get his keys in the ignition with his shaking hands. 

_ "Fuck _ !" He yells, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. 

He talks to himself the entire way back to the party. 

"That's it, Rich, you've gotta die - or maybe you just need everyone to  _ think _ that you're dead. You could go to Mexico, I hear it's pretty nice there this time of year. Maybe meet a nice man there who's not, oh I don't fucking know,  _ your best friend _ ?  _ God _ , you're such a fucking idiot."

By the time he makes it back to the party, he's wound as tight as a drum. He heads straight to the kitchen to get himself another beer because fuck it, he deserves one. This watered-down ass Corona won't actually get him any drunker, but it makes him feel better to have some alcohol to drink. He chugs it practically all in one pull while the other party-goers chatting in the kitchen look on in confusion and mild disgust. Then he slams it down on the marble countertop, chucks it into the bulging-full trash can on his way out, and marches upstairs to the bathroom.

It's here that he goes into full-on breakdown mode. When was the last time he cried? When they watched  _ Homeward Bound _ for his film class in 9th grade? Eddie was there that time; he's not now. Richie's crying so hard he can hardly pull air in through his shudders, sobs breaking out painfully from his chest. He throws his glasses to the counter and looks at himself in the mirror, swiping angrily at the tears flowing down his cheeks and running his hands through his hair. 

"Fuck.  _ Fuck! _ Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.  _ Fuck!" _

"Rich?"

His image in the mirror freezes.

"Ummmmmm… occupied?"

Great fucking job Richie, you fucking idiot.

Bev's voice gets closer, "Rich, are you okay in there?"

"Oh yeah! I'm great! Totally!" The fake chirpiness he adds to his voice is undercut by it's obvious wateriness. 

Bev is done playing this game. "Richie, let me in there with you right now." She demands, trying the locked doorknob.

"Okay, okay, Jesus! Can't a guy have a breakdown in peace these days?"

The second he gets the door open with his trembling fingers, she's on him, feeling for injuries like the mama bear she is. Once her assessment of his body comes back positive, she moves her gaze to his face and stops dead.

"Oh, Rich, what happened?"

"Oh nothing, I just, you know, ruined my entire life, no big deal."

"Richie I'm gonna need you to stop spiraling for a sec and tell me what happened so I can help you."

"Oh nothing major, just fucking Eddie  _ kissed  _ me, and because I'm an idiot I  _ let  _ him, and now I'm gonna have to move to Mexico and I don't even speak Spanish Bev-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, okay, stop. Eddie kissed you? Why aren't we celebrating right now? What's the problem?"

"The  _ problem _ , Beverly, is that he was drunk out of his damn mind, and is certainly going to regret it very much in the morning, on the off-chance he even remembers, that is. Greatest moment of my fucking life, and stupid ass Eddie won't even remember it-"

"Okay, Rich, reel it in. Have you, for even a minute, considered the fact that he  _ wanted _ to kiss you?"

A pause

"Of course not. Because that's fucking stupid. He was drunk."

“Okay, yeah, but 'Drunk actions are sober thoughts' or whatever that saying is, right?"

"That's just a saying made up by some dumb ass in my position trying to convince himself that the actions of a blackout drunk mean something. Spoiler alert: they don't!"

"So you're telling me that sober Eddie is straight and has no interest in you, but drunk Eddie made out with you like a teenager?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you."

"No offense Richie, but you're fucking stupid."

"Hey!" He yells indignantly.

"Don't you 'Hey' me, Tozier, I'm not going to have this conversation with you again. Eddie is totally, 100%, stupidly in love with you, and he kissed you because he was too drunk to stop himself like he usually does. End of story."

Richie's heart soars in response to Bev's words, but he crushes that instinct quickly. There's just no fucking way, and the only thing worse than feeling the way he does now would be feeling hopeful instead, only to have his dreams crushed. 

"Listen. You're fucking wrong. But that's not the point. Eddie can  _ never _ find out that I kissed him. Comprendé? Hey, maybe I do speak Spanish!"

There, now he's using his usual coping mechanism for his emotional trauma: humor. 

Bev's not laughing. "Richie-"

“No, Bev, no Richies. I need you to  _ swear  _ to me that you won't tell  _ anyone _ about this,  _ especially _ not Eddie. Don't fuck with me. Swear."

"Alright Rich, I swear that I won't tell him. But  _ you _ should. Seriously, I know you. You can barely handle keeping the secrets you've got; If Eddie weren't as hopelessly oblivious as you are, he'd have figured it out 10 years ago. Keeping this one is going to kill you."

"Well then you'd better start planning my funeral, cause I'm taking this one to the grave. Make sure you play lots of Bowie," he grins, but it's clearly an act. 

She sighs. "Alright, let's get out of here, you're in no state to party."

"You guys are ready to go?"

"Yeah, that's why I was looking for you, the guys are ready to head home."

Richie takes a quick look at himself in the mirror.

"Fuck, I look like  _ shit _ , don't I?"

He tugs his hands through his hair, wipes his eyes, and puts his glasses on, but he still looks fucking terrible.

"Yeah, but luckily for you, the guys are too smashed to notice. Let's go."

She's right; Richie drives the guys all the way home, puffy face and all, and not a single one of them comments on it. Some friends they turned out to be. They all head straight to bed, and Bev follows after kissing Richie on the cheek and patting his shoulder. Which leaves Richie, alone with his thoughts for the rest of the night. This outta be good.

Now, Richie's no stranger to dark thoughts. He grew up gay in a small town, and he's been secretly in love with his closest friend for 12+ years - he's basically the poster child for depression. But tonight's on a whole 'nother level. Thankfully, he's fucking  _ exhausted _ , so he passes out quickly. 

The morning is… better and worse. Better because for a few blissful seconds he forgets what happened last night. Worse in every other possible way. On the bright side because he wasn't drinking, he doesn't have a hangover to contend with. That's the end of the bright side. All of the self-hatred from last night is back like it never left, and the knowledge that Eddie is either awake or will be soon has a tremor of fear shaking down his spine. He just needs to act normal, that's all. There's no way that Eddie will remember what happened last night, and now all Richie has to do is act like he doesn't either. Easy, right? 

He cringes like a bitch when Eddie bursts into his room a few minutes later - the man has a sixth sense for when Richie wakes up -but Eddie's just being his usual grumpy self.

"Thanks for letting me get blackout fucking drunk last night, asshole. I'm pretty sure my hangover has a hangover." He’s so angry when he’s hungover. Richie loves him.

Usually, Richie's response would have been something along the lines of "Awwww Eds, did someone get a little too tipsy and hurt himself?"

What he goes with instead is "haha, yeah...sorry dude."

The stumble doesn't go unnoticed.

Eddie's brow furrows. "I guess you're not a total lost cause - thanks for the aspirin and water by the way." He tries, throwing him another bone like the great best friend he is.

But Richie is incapable of acting like a normal human being. 

"Mhmm."

Smooth Richie, smooth.

Look, Richie isn’t a good actor. And you’re probably thinking “isn’t comedy just another form of acting?” and to that he says: fucking no, it isn’t. You might  _ also _ be thinking “Richie, you’re literally constantly acting like you’re not in love with your best friend, isn’t that acting?” and you have a point there, but he doesn’t actually do much acting for that. Mostly, he just hopes and prays that Eddie isn’t reading into all of the gay shit Richie does, and so far, honestly it’s working. Well, it was until last night. Now he actually has to put effort into pretending like the last 24 hours never happened, and he isn’t fucking good at that.

Eddie  _ definitely  _ knows something’s up. 

“...okay. Well, I’m gonna go grab some breakfast in the kitchen.”

“Haha yeah, you do that.”

Shut the  _ fuck  _ up, Richie!  _ God _ , why didn’t he sign up for those free acting classes over the summer again? Oh yeah, that’s right, to spend more time with Eddie. Typical Richie move. Fucking idiot.

When Eddie closes the door behind him, Richie faceplants into his pillow and groans. Jesus. This is going to end very, very badly. And yet, he has no choice but his current course of action. It’s not like he could (or ever would) just never see Eddie again, but at the same time he needs to keep last night’s events a secret. So his only real option is to act like a completely fucking suspicious idiot for the rest of his life. Great.

Things only get worse as the days stretch on, and the other guys are starting to take notice. Of course, Bev knows from the jump what’s going on, so she’s been interpreting his awkwardness correctly the whole time. The guys, on the other hand, take a while to catch on, but now they’re definitely seeing it. The way that he’s his normal, hilarious self until Eddie walks into the room and turns all of Richie’s sentences into stunted garbage. The way he’s been dodging Eddie’s attempts to hang out when that used to be how he spent all of his free time. The way any talk of the party that night is met with an abrupt subject change, courtesy of Richie. Bill even pulled him aside to ask him about it once, and Richie made up some shit about exams and being tired saying that if he’s been acting weird around Eddie then that’s completely unintentional. Fucking liar. 

And if  _ they’ve _ noticed it, Eddie  _ definitely _ has. It’s been 2 weeks since the party, and every day Eddie gets a little bit less weirded out by his behavior and a little more clearly annoyed by it. Yesterday, when Richie claimed to be too busy to go see the new  _ Zombieland _ with him, Eddie muttered “Of fucking course,” under his breath as he walked away, and earlier today Richie caught him glaring daggers at him while he did his homework in the living room. But it’s fine - or, rather, it’s very much  _ not  _ fine, but Richie’s just gonna keep doing what he does best: pretending that everything is okay until it either  _ becomes _ okay  _ or _ blows up in his face. 

It’s looking very much like it’s going to be the latter when Eddie stomps into Richie’s room after class one day with a murderous expression on his face. They’re the only ones home because they’re the only two who had a test the day before Thanksgiving break and couldn’t leave campus early to see their folks.  _ Shit _ . Now Richie has another reason to hate his Comm. Arts 301 professor, other than the fact that her breath smells and she grades like a complete nazi - she set him up for this shit. Fucking harpy-ass bitch. 

“Okay, listen here  _ fuckface _ -”

“Eddie, I-”

“No, it’s my turn to talk now, Richie, and I’m  _ pissed _ . No, not just pissed, I’m fucking hurt! I don’t know if you’ve become confused somehow, but I’m not fucking stupid, jackass. I’ve known you just as long as you’ve known me, and I can tell when something’s up. You’ve been acting weird for the past  _ month-” _

It’s been a month? Shit, it’s been  _ way _ longer than he thought it has. Fuck.

“-and I tried to be patient, because I know  _ you’re _ just fucking weird, and sometimes you just do weird shit because that’s who you are, but clearly it’s not just you being you; it’s got something to do with me. You act  _ totally fine _ around every other godforsaken person on this fucking planet, so what’s your sudden problem with me? At the risk of sounding like a complete clingy tool here, what the fuck, Rich? We’re supposed to be best friends.”

By the end of his rant, his voice has tapered down from angry to just sad. It breaks Richie’s fucking heart, man. 

“Eds, you’re not being clingy, okay? I’ve just been...really busy lately.”

“See, this is what I’m fucking talking about Richie! Our rooms are right next to each other, dumb ass, I can hear the Brooklyn Nine-Nine theme playing every twenty minutes, and I  _ know _ your ADHD ass can’t do homework and watch TV at the same time!”

Fuck, he knows him too well.

“Cut the shit and tell me the truth, Richie.”

But he can’t tell him the truth. The only thing worse than having this conversation with Eddie right now would be losing him altogether.

“This has something to do with that party we went to last month, doesn’t it?”

That catches Richie off-guard, and Eddie can see that on his face.

“See? I told you I’m not stupid, asshole! What could I have possibly forgotten about that night that’s so bad? Everyone else treats me just fine - it’s just you! Look, I’m sorry for whatever it was, okay?”

Richie has one more chance to try and turn this around.

“No, Eddie,  _ I’m  _ sorry. You’re right, it totally has to do with that night. You threw up  _ all _ over my favorite Hawaiian shirt and ruined it, and I guess without realizing it, I’ve kinda been holding a grudge against you for it. I’m over it now, okay?”

There’s a brief pause while Eddie checks to see if that excuse fits with the evidence he’s collected. He can see in his eyes that he’s almost made it…

“Richie, you wore that shirt yesterday.” 

_ Fuck _ !  _ God _ he swears he’s smarter than this. His horny idiot genes block his brain cells when he’s around Eddie - that must be it.

“Are you serious right now, Richie? I’m done with this,” Eddie’s voice is thick with tears. Holy shit, what has he done? The whole point of avoiding Eddie to keep his secret was so he wouldn’t lose him, but as he watches Eddie walk towards the door with that devastated look on his face, it’s clear that he’s about to lose him anyways. That can’t happen.

“Wait! Eddie please wait, okay, I’ll tell you what really happened!”

He turns back towards where Richie’s sitting on his bed with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised in the universal expression for “I’m waiting.” Richie lets out a slow breath. This is it.

“The night of the party, you got really drunk, and… you kissed me.”

Richie cringes away from the words as they leave his mouth. All of the color drains from Eddie’s face, and his expression becomes horrified. This is the moment Richie’s been waiting for, where his best friend tells him that he can’t be around him anymore. Eddie opens his mouth, and he braces for impact.

“Richie…” 

Here it comes...

“I am.  _ So _ .  _ Sorry _ .”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what?”

“It will  _ never _ happen again, okay,  _ please _ don’t hate me.” 

His voice is trembling.

“You’re the most important person in the world to me, okay, and the way I feel about you doesn’t have to get in the way of our friendship, I promise.”

“Wait,  _ what? _ ”

Eddies brow furrows. “Look, I know this is a shock, and I can give you some space, if that’s what you need, but please keep being my friend. I-I need you to.”

“No, like wait, what the  _ fuck _ are you talking about?”

“...I kissed you. When I was drunk. Even though I knew you weren’t into me. And I’m very sorry.”

“I was going to apologize to  _ you _ , asshat!”

Eddie’s head snaps up in shock. “What? What were you going to apologize for?”

“For kissing you back and taking advantage of you when you were drunk, even though I knew you’d be disgusted about it if you were sober!”

“Disgusted about  _ what? _ ”

“About  _ kissing me _ , moron!”

“Why are you yelling at me dickface, nothing you’re saying is making any sense!”

“No, nothing  _ you’re _ saying is making any sense!”

“Why would I be disgusted with that?  _ I’m _ the one who kissed  _ you _ !”

“Because you’re straight and I let you kiss me when you didn’t know what you were doing!”

“Um, no?”

“Don’t lie to me, dude, I know  _ exactly _ how out of your mind you were that night.”

“No, I was  _ extremely _ drunk, but I’m not fucking  _ straight _ !”

This is news to fucking him.

“...yes, you are.”

“No I’m not! How are you gonna tell  _ me _ what my own sexuality is! I’m gay as  _ shit _ !”

“Why didn’t I know that? I know everything about you! You never talk about guys!”

“I never talk about girls! I don’t discuss my love life with you because  _ you’re _ the only person I’m interested in, and somehow I thought that might be awkward to bring up at guy’s night; my mistake!”

“Okay, but- wait, you’re interested in me?”

“Yes! Which is why I  _ kissed _ you the other night, and what I’m trying to apologize for!”

“That’s impossible.”

“Look, I know-”

“No, just shut up for a second, dude!”

Richie puts his head between his knees and starts to hyperventilate. This can’t be happening to him. He should be totally fucking  _ psyched _ right now, but he’s been wanting to hear Eddie say that for so long that his brain isn’t sure how to comprehend this information and has elected to set itself on fire, instead. 

A hand falls on his shoulder. “Rich, I’m really fucking sorry, okay? Please don’t freak out.” Eddie pleads in a soft voice.

“Don’t freak out? Eddie,  _ I’m _ in love with  _ you _ ! I was gonna apologize because I have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair and kissed you back even though I  _ knew _ sober-you would be disgusted. I felt like a total fucking  _ skeez ball _ , and I was avoiding you so I wouldn’t slip up and tell you what happened, and by extension reveal my big gay secret!” His chest his heaving by the time he finishes his rant, but instead of feeling better he just feels vulnerable and exposed. 

Eddie has the same deer-in-the-headlights look Richie was probably wearing a few minutes ago, and his hand is still frozen on his shoulder. The ice in Richie’s chest is starting to thaw and filling its place is a little, tiny piece of hope.  _ Don’t you fucking ruin this for me, Eddie. _

“Richie, you...like me?”

“I believe ‘love’ is the word I used, but if that’s too much for you we can pretend I said ‘like’.”

Ah, a joke to cover up how scared he is. Right on cue, Rich. Right on fucking cue.

“And you kissed me back that night because you love me-”

“Uh-huh.”

“And have been avoiding me ever since because you were afraid that I’d reject you if I found out.”

“That sounds about right to me.”

“And you thought I was straight.”

“Look, I’m learning a lot today, give me a break.”

“And you had no idea that I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

“...I guess? I still don’t think I know that.”

Eddie grins. “You’re such a fucking idiot, Rich”

“Hey! I-”

Whatever defense he was about to try is cut off by Eddie’s lips blocking his airflow. The hand on his shoulder moves up to cup the back of his head, and it’s so much like last time that it makes his head spin a little bit. But it’s also so different from last time, because as his head is just starting to fully comprehend, he’s allowed to want it this time. Eddie is sober, and he  _ loves _ him. He grins so hard into it that Eddie breaks away because the expression he’s wearing makes it impossible to kiss properly. 

“Sorry, dude” Richie laughs, before pulling Eddie down by the sides of his face to kiss him the right way. This time,  _ Richie _ ’s the one to push his tongue into the other’s mouth, and the whimper that Eddie lets out in response leaves his stomach aflutter with butterflies. They kiss passionately for several minutes until their lips are bruised and swollen, which Richie finds so hot that he groans and draws Eddie back in. Eddie bites at Richie’s lips, which sends a tremor of heat down his spine. 

“ _ Fuck _ ” Richie moans, tugging on Eddie’s perfect hair. 

Eddie  _ really _ likes that, if his responding attempt to get them even closer is any indication, but unfortunately that move also knocks off Richie’s glasses.

“Dude!” Richie laughs, falling back onto the bed.

“Shut up, I’m new at this, jerkface!” He lays on top of Richie, dissolving into giggles as well. 

Richie pushes up onto his elbows, bringing his face inches away from Eddie’s.

“Hey, I don’t know if I made this clear through all of the yelling earlier, but I’m serious.” Richie’s tone of voice indicates as much, losing the laughter from a few seconds ago.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were 8, and I never told you because I… I was so afraid that you’d reject me, that you’d never talk to me again, that you’d be grossed out, all that good stuff. And I’m still so fucking afraid. And  _ that’s _ why I was avoiding you, and felt like I couldn’t tell you about what happened, and I’m sorry. I’m done doing that - everything’s out in the open now. If you were doing this whole liking-me-back thing because you were afraid I’d wig out again or something, don’t. You’re my best friend, even if you never love me. It’s really okay.”

Richie finishes his speech with an encouraging smile, even though it breaks his heart to have to say those words. He just needs to be sure that if Eddie really says he loves him, he fucking means it. 

“Fucking  _ OW _ !” Yeah, Eddie just punched him in the arm, hard.

“Unlike  _ some people _ , I don’t lie to my best friend. Of course I really love you, you idiot! Why would I ever say so just to spare your feelings? I love hurting your feelings! It’s like, in my top ten favorite things to do!” 

He’s grinning, that little shit.

“I’ve loved you probably about as long as you say you’ve loved me, I was just way too much of a pussy to say anything about it; luckily for us, drunk-me has no fear, and decided to take matters into his own hands.”

Richie shakes his head, grinning now, too.

“You really love me.”

“I do.”

“I love you.”

“I’m starting to see that, yeah.”

“Are we boyfriends now?”

“I certainly fucking hope not, you’re awful.”

“ _ Eddie! _ ”

“I’m just  _ kidding _ , sheesh. Yeah you’re my boyfriend, idiot.”

“Dude, Bev is gonna be so fucking psyched, she basically called this shit 10 years ago. I think I owe her money now.”

THE END 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Reddie fic ever, and I had so much fucking fun with it. As someone who, as you might have guessed, loves to swear, writing these two from Richie's point of view really gave me the kind of creative license I've been craving (i.e. the kind where I get to swear a whole lot.) Let me know if you want more of these two and I'll write it (also include ideas for sequels, if you have any.) Please let me know if you liked this, I honestly have no idea if it's any good! Comments and kudos are very appreciated!! Thanks, I love you! You can find me on ig @Jeff_the_Slender, tumblr @jefftheslender, and on twitter @Jefftheslender!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Decided to add a chapter to this, and I have at least one more chapter planned! Content Warning for mild mentions of abuse. No in-depth descriptions, no physical abuse at all, just the mention of emotional abuse and some pretty awful parenting courtesy of Mrs. K. But you probably saw that coming. This work is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine! I hope you enjoy!

"Richie you fucker! You told Bev you're in love with me, but you couldn't tell _me_ that? Jesus fucking Christ, why do I put up with you?"

It's honestly a good question, but whatever makes Eddie stick around, Richie's grateful for it.

“Look, let’s stop pretending that any decision I’ve ever made has made any fucking sense, okay? In my defense, I’m a dumb ass.”

“Well, you’ve got me there. . .”

“Hey!”

Eddie dissolves into laughter, burying his face into Richie’s chest and giggling.

Richie can’t believe this shit. “Dude! You’re supposed to be like ‘awww, Rich, no you’re not, you’re a genius, and handsome, and your ass is _amazing_-”

Eddie snorts into Richie’s chest, laughter doubling. What a fucking asshole. Richie leans his head back onto his arms, waiting to be appreciated for the stud he is. He’s probably gonna be here a while. Like, until his bones turn to fucking dust. 

Eddie peeks back up when his laughter dies out a few minutes later.

“Hey, you’re still my ride home for Thanksgiving, right?”

Fuck, Richie totally forgot about that. He must have promised before he decided to avoid Eddie for the foreseeable future. Wow, it’s one _hell_ of a good thing that they worked this whole gay love situation out, because otherwise he’d have had a pretty awkward car ride to look forward to.

“Yeah, sure. Why? Eager to get home and gossip to all our friends about how great of a _kisser_ I am?” he wags his eyebrows suggestively, but Eddie just rolls his eyes.

“I wouldn’t lie to my friends like that, dude.” 

Eddie snorts.

Richie decides to let it pass that he’s already made that joke once, because he’s got a much better argument prepared.

“Oh, so you’re trying to tell me that you _don’t_ think I’m a good kisser, is that it? Huh? I guess I’ve got a responsibility here to correct some misinformation!” 

His smile turns devilish as he rises up onto his elbows, pulling Eddie’s face up by the chin until he can gently press their lips together. He kisses him softly, using only the slightest bit of pressure to move their lips. After a few seconds of this, Eddie tries to deepen the kiss, but Richie holds his chin firmly in place, keeping their contact minimal and sweet. Eyebrows scrunching, Eddie pushes up from Richie’s chest to try and get some leverage. Even when he finally succeeds in pushing closer to Richie, the other man pulls back lower onto the bed so that their kiss remains superficial. A whine escaping from Eddie’s throat, Richie separates from their kiss with a grin.

“Oh, whatever could be the problem, Edward?” Richie asks in his most innocent voice, batting his eyelashes.

”Okay, okay, _jesus_ I’m _sorry_! You’re a fantastic kisser! The best! C’mon, work with me here, Rich! Please?”

Words can not describe the utter, smug joy that Richie feels watching his boyfriend beg him for a kiss. Is this what being God feels like? No, God’s probably not allowed to be smug about shit because he’s _God_ and all. This definitely feels better.

“Well, since you asked so nicely. . .”

Before Richie can even finish with his sass Eddie pounces, throwing one of his legs over Richie’s body so he’s straddling him and pulling the shocked man up by the front of his shirt until their lips crash together.

“Woah, woah, you _like_ me or somethin’, Eds?” Richie taunts against Eddie’s lips. The only reply he gets is the sting of fingers tightening in his hair and a groan from his boyfriend as he tries to push their lips even closer together.

Richie wraps his arms around Eddie’s back, holding him securely against him as he pushes their lips apart. Teasing Eddie’s tongue with his own, he slides his hands under his shirt to feel the heated skin of his back, scratching him lightly with his nails and earning himself a roll of Eddie’s hips in response. _Shit_, that feels amazing, so much so that it tears a shocked moan out of Richie’s throat. He can feel that Eddie’s already hard as he rubs against his thigh, whimpering into their kiss. And _fuck_, man, Richie has to pull back for a minute to catch his breath, moving his lips over to bite at Eddie’s neck, who immediately tips his head back to provide better access in a submissive move that shouldn’t be nearly as hot as it is, but _fuck_ is it ever. He sucks on the skin of Eddie’s neck, teasing it with his teeth and then soothing it with his tongue, and he gets a wicked grin on his face from the way Eddie’s breathing changes to shallow panting.

Pulling back to admire his handiwork, another wave of arousal surges straight to the pit of Richie’s stomach when he sees the dark hickey blooming on the pale skin of Eddie’s throat. He bites his lip.

”_Fuuuuuuuck_,” He groans eloquently, stroking his thumb over the mark he’s made.

”What?” Eddie demands, face flushing an adorable shade of pink.

Richie reaches up and pinches one of his rosy cheeks, grinning. “Nothing, beautiful. Just lookin’ atcha.”

Understatement of the year. More like eye-fucking Eddie’s stupid blushing face into oblivion.

“Well stop, it’s annoying. It’s not like there’s much to look at. . .” he complains, mumbling the last part under his breath.

Nuh-uh. None of that shit. Not on Richie’s fucking watch.

Richie catches Eddie’s chin with his thumb and fore-finger, turning it so he that can look him in the eye. Eddie still averts his gaze to the ceiling, the stubborn asshole.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Richie starts planting kisses all over Eddie’s face between his words: his forehead, the corner of his mouth, his cheeks, his nose. “Somethin’. ‘bout. There. Not. Being. Any. Thing. To. Look. At? Huh?”

Eddie giggles, trying to bat away Richie’s kisses.

“Fucking _stop_ that, Rich! Cut it out! I’m _serious_!”

His words are undercut by the fact that he can’t stop laughing, and the two of them keep giggling and fighting until eventually Richie wrestles Eddie into a choke hold where he can blow raspberries into his cheek until he shrieks for surrender.

”Okay, okay, I give, sheesh! I’m beautiful or whatever! I get it, stop!”

Richie pretends to think about it for a few seconds, before planting one more kiss on Eddie’s temple and releasing him. They collapse next to each other on the bed, still laughing a little as they catch their breath. Richie twines their fingers together, squeezing them.

”I win.”

The withering glare Eddie sends his way would be scarier if his chest wasn’t still heaving from the exertion of their struggle, or maybe if he wasn’t clearly still half-hard in his jeans. Richie looks over at him with a grin so dopey, Eddie can’t help but smile back equally so.

Eddie squeezes his hand back. “I missed you, you know. When we were . . . not talking, or whatever.”

”I know, me too. I’m sorry. I should have just been honest with you, dude, and I will be, from now on. Zero secrets. I’m an open book, Eds.”

Eddie puts his finger on his chin and pretends to think really hard.

”Okay, in that case, I’ve got a question. Have you ever had an _actual_ wet dream about me? Like, the kind where you wake up and you already came in your pants?”

Silence. 

”Okay, I have one secret.”

”_Richie_! I was kidding!”

”You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t wanna know the answer to, Eds! Especially ones about how horny I am for you at all times. Those ones are especially disgusting.”

Eddie squints his eyes like he’s trying to decide whether he wants to press it, then wrinkles his nose and shakes his head.

”I hate you.”

”Nuh-uh, you _wuuuuuuv_ me,” Richie protests, making kissing noises.

”Yeah, I guess that makes _me_ the idiot.”

Richie continues to aim his kissy face at Eddie, his lips making obnoxious smacking sounds, until Eddie slaps his chest.

”Okay that’s it, I can’t handle you anymore. Can we get on our way home now?”

Richie’s perpetual grin widens mischievously. “We _could_ do that. _Or_, since no one else is here to bother us, we could stay a little while longer and make out some more.”

Because yeah, there’s pretty much nobody Richie needs to see at home so badly that he’d rather be there right now than in bed kissing Eddie. His _boyfriend_. He’s his fucking _boyfriend_, dude. Shit, that’s never gonna get old, is it?

”Aren’t you tired of kissing me yet? It’s all we’ve been doing for, like, half an hour,” Eddie teases, his smug smile proving he already knows the answer to that question and just wants to hear Richie say it. Sadistic prick.

”Eds, if you think 30 minutes of you is enough for me then you really don’t understand the magnitude of my feelings. 80% of my thoughts for the past 10 years have been various fantasies of us in bed together - give me at least a few hours to get sick of you.” There, throw some teasing in there so he can’t tell just how dead-serious you are. A+ Richie-ing, Rich.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie look happier than he does now, grinning from ear-to-ear at what Richie just said. Okay, maybe that one time when Stan tripped on stage at his synagogue’s big Hanukkah celebration 4 years ago, but other than that? Never. Huh. Maybe he should talk about his feelings more often. He probably _won’t_, but hey. It’s the thought that counts, right?

”Ahem. . . my point is, let’s make out some more, yeah?” Oh yeah Richie, you saved it. He’ll never know how much of an emotional idiot you are now. Smooth. 

“You are so adorable, Rich. Really. Watching you try to no-homo yourself by offering to kiss me? The most entertaining shit I’ve ever seen,” Eddie teases with a cheeky grin, pinching at Richie’s face. “We’ll make an emotionally-mature man out of you yet, Tozier.”

Richie wants to deny it, but honestly? He can kind of see that happening. Being here, talking as candidly as he can manage to about his feelings, it’s not that bad. It’s a hell of a relief to say some of this shit out loud, the lovey-dovey gay shit he’s been holding inside for ten-odd years. And if it keeps Eds smiling at him like this, one part proud and two parts adoring, he’ll drudge up every bit of mushy feeling he’s got left in him and lay it out for the world to see. Okay, maybe not the world, but at least Eddie. Not right now, though. He’s done with his emotional side for the day; he needs a fucking break, this introspection shit is _exhausting_.

”Alright Freud, are you gonna kiss me or am I gonna have to beg you for it? Wait, on second thought that’s hot. Make me beg you for it,” he grins.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but obligingly wraps his arms around Richie’s neck and pulls their heads together until they’re only inches apart. “Okay, fine. But _then_ we’re gonna load our bags into the car and get on the road, right?”

“Absolutely.”

***

They spend the next two hours in Richie’s bed, alternating between kissing each others’ daylights out and catching up on their missing month together. Richie got a C on that exam he was _positive_ he was going to fail. Eddie’s mom called to complain that he doesn’t call often enough, so now twice a week he has an hour-long, excruciatingly boring conversation with his mother that usually ends in a panic attack and an email to his therapist. Richie finished Brooklyn Nine-Nine for the 4th time in as many months, and is taking a brief Rick and Morty break to cleanse his palette before starting back at season 1 again. Eddie saw the new Zombieland, and it was actually really good. He had to go with Bill, though, which sucked because he couldn’t joke through the movie the way he usually does when Richie and him see a movie together. These and about a million more increasingly tiny details from their time apart are shared until they’ve squeezed just about every last bit of intrigue from the past month of their lives. By the time they decide that it’s time to go, it’s starting to get dark outside. Well, Eddie’s decided it’s time to go. Richie, on the other hand . . .

”But I don’t waaaaaannaaaaa go,” he whines, burying his face into Eddie’s neck and holding him in a vice grip so that he can’t wriggle free.

“Richie, stop being such a fucking baby. If we don’t leave now, we’ll never get home. Don’t you want to sleep in your own bed tonight? The one that’s _actually_ long enough for your slenderman-ass body?” He looks pointedly down at the bottom quarter of Richie’s legs that are hanging off the end of the mattress.

”But I don’t wanna let you go,” he huffs, overdoing the childish act a bit because he knows how much it frustrates Eddie.

”Richie, we’ve still got the entire hour-long ride home together! And it’s not like we won’t be seeing each other - I live a block away, dumb ass! I’ll practically be at your house the whole time!”

“Promise?” Richie pouts, a grin slipping through his act.

Eddie doesn’t notice, too busy worming his way out of his boyfriend’s grasp. “Yes, fine, I promise, now let me go!”

Richie immediately does, and Eddie, not expecting to be released so quickly, flies out of his arms and face-plants onto the floor. Richie laughs so hard that there are tears leaking out of his eyes as he rolls around on his bed and gasps for air.

Eddie is _not_ fucking amused. “I’ll be in the car with my stuff.”

”Wait, no, fuck, I’m sorry! I’m coming! Don’t leave without me Eds, you know I can’t walk that far!” Richie runs after him, snagging his suitcase on the way out and racing for his truck.

The car ride is nice. Eddie gets to pick the music because he’s a primadonna, and Richie holds his hand the whole drive, squeezing it now and then to make sure that this is really happening. It’s so fucking cliche, he’s almost ashamed at how happy it makes him. Fucking sap. It’s a beautiful night out, even without the rays of the sun to keep it warm, probably one of the last ones left before the snow starts, so Richie has the windows rolled down a bit and Eddie is complaining loudly that they’re going to catch a cold. It’s perfect.

That is, until about half-way through the drive when they’re joking about their friends’ reactions to their newfound-but-not-really romance, and Richie realizes that there’s one reaction they haven’t prepared for.

Richie sighs, preparing himself to shatter the perfect moment. ”Hey Spaghetti, you know you don’t have to tell your mom about us if you don’t want to, right?”

”Huh?”

Richie scratches the back of his neck. ”I mean, I know she can be kind of a huge bitch, and I don’t know how well she’d take the whole “my son is gay” speech. And she _really_ doesn’t like me. So telling her _I’m_ the lucky bastard you’re gay with probably isn’t gonna help. I just wanted to make sure you know that my feelings aren’t gonna be, like, hurt or whatever if you don’t tell her. Like, I understand.”

“No, you’re right, your feelings aren’t gonna be hurt - because I’m gonna tell her,” Eddie replies stubbornly.

”Eds. . .”

”No, don’t ‘Eds’ me, Tozier. I’m an adult now, and if I want to talk about _my_ boyfriend in my own damn house, then I will. What’s she gonna do? Yell at me? Warn me about how it’ll ruin my life? She already does! With everything!” his volume is rising as his rant goes on.

Richie squeezes his hand. “Hey, hey, I know that, Eds! I know that. I wasn’t saying that you’re not _allowed_ to tell her anything you want. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t, for any reason, feel like you _have_ to. You don’t owe her that, and you certainly don’t owe me that. I love you regardless.”

Richie shrugs like it’s not a big deal, because to him it isn’t. Fuck Eddie’s mom, man, she’s the fucking worst! She hasn’t done a good thing for him since the day he was born, except raising him in Derry so that he could meet Richie. And even that was more a matter of chance than anything deliberate on her part! She’s messed up Eddie in more ways than he’s probably even aware of, and the last thing Eds needs right now at the start of a new relationship is his mom’s blatant homophobia, okay?

And maybe . . . maybe Richie’s a little afraid that if Eddie’s mom lays into him about the dangers of gay thoughts and gives him another one of her speeches about how Richie’s a bad influence, Eddie will decide that he doesn’t wanna be with him anymore. And that . . . that can’t happen. It just can’t. The _only_ good thing in Richie’s life, and he’s gonna let some fucking abuser ruin it for him? No chance in hell. 

”Rich, I’m not gonna tell her for her sake, or even for yours. I’m doing it for me. I can’t keep being _afraid_ of my mom, _afraid_ of what she’ll say all the time, you know? It’s really no big deal. I’m just gonna tell her the good news, and she’s gonna tell me I’m going to hell, and then I’ll come back to your place and we can talk shit on her like we always do, okay?”

He smiles at Richie and squeezes his hand. Too bad Richie can’t just let the conversation end on a good note, because he’s an idiot.

”You’re right. You’re right. I know. It’s just . . . whatever crazy shit she says, it’s not gonna affect us, right? We’ll still be . . . boyfriends, won’t we?” God, is he really gonna let his own self-hatred seep into their relationship? Survey says yes.

Eddie gets this sympathetic look on his face, and Richie can’t fucking take it, man. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

”ERRR, try again!” Eddie crows into Richie’s ear, making him jump. “You know you can’t pull that defeatist bullshit with me, dude! Listen, no matter _what_ my mom says, no matter how many times she talks about the poison you’re leaking into my ear, we are _still_ going to be boyfriends, alright? I didn’t spend over ten years pretending to be your best friend so that I could _finally_ trick my way into your pants, only to let my mom ruin it.” The grin on Eddie’s face is absolutely shit-eating. He’s _extremely_ proud of himself, the fucking asshole. Richie loves him so much.

Eddie’s smile softens and he continues. “No, man, I’m serious. If I was gonna stop loving you because my mom said so, I would have done it thirteen years ago when I came home from 4th grade and told her I wanted to marry you.” Eddie’s smile turns rueful. “She didn’t take it so well, practically locked me in my room. And I _still_ found my way to your birthday party a week later even though that’s the _last_ place she wanted me, remember? I had to get Bill to tell her I was at his place, and he had to get his parents to lie for me on the phone and say I was there. Do you know how hard that was? I did Bill’s homework for _weeks_! And I’d do it again, a million times over, because for _some_ fucking reason, I’m obsessed with you, and I’d do just about anything to make you smile. Even though your teeth are kinda fucked up,” he teases, scrunching his nose. “Anyhow, honestly she shouldn’t be very surprised, she’s known this was coming since way back then. I think it’s why she hates you so much.” Eddie shrugs, turning bashful now that his speech is over.

Holy. Fucking. Shit. Richie’s about ready to take his foot off the gas pedal and get down on one knee in the middle of the god damn highway. “Eddie I want you to know that if I wasn’t driving I would be sucking the _shit_ out of your dick right now.”

Eddie lets out a shout of laughter, snorting and hitting Richie’s arm. “Way to ruin the mood, asshat.” 

”That’s what I do, baby,” Richie grins.

Ooh, is that a blush he spies on Eddie’s cheek?

”You like it when I call you baby, baby?”

”Dude, shut up!”

”You do! Perfect, ‘cause I like sayin’ it.” He smiles brightly.

Eddie rolls his eyes and covertly rolls his window back up at the same time, leaning his head on Richie’s shoulder.

And that’s that. The rest of the drive passes pleasantly, their bantering mood back, and Richie drops Eddie off at his mom’s place without anything more than a lingering kiss and a hand squeeze before they part. Richie would be lying if he said his palms aren’t sweating a little, but he has his own shit to deal with. His parents are a little pissed that he’s come home so late and missed dinner, and even though he’d packed pretty lightly for the week his ADHD makes it more than a little hard to stay on-task long enough to unpack; he stops every few minutes when something new in his bedroom catches his eye. Eventually, though, his stuff is put away and he’s downstairs sitting on the basement couch, fucking around with some of his old videogames like he does every time he’s in town. The only reason he hears the commotion upstairs is because he’d paused his game to scroll on twitter.

_*knock knock*_

_”Oh, hello Eddie, sweetie. What are you doing here? Didn’t Rich drop you off an hour ago?”_

_”Y-yeah, Mrs.T, he did. Um, is he here? Can I see him?”_

_”Of course, dear, you know you’re welcome here anytime. He’s downstairs.”_

Richie’s waiting for Eddie when he comes down the stairs, eyebrows raised expectantly as he rises to meet him

”Hey, Eds, you okay?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, just-” his breath hitches, and even though it’s clear he’s trying to stop himself his face screws up and a sob breaks out.

”Oh, baby, what happened?” Richie soothes, wrapping Eddie in a hug and kissing the top of his head, rubbing his back.

Eddie sniffles, pulling back to wipe at his eyes. The tears keep coming, but he’s rubbing his face raw trying to stop them.

”Nothing, nothing. It’s stupid. It’s so dumb,” he laughs, swiping at his eyes again. “It went exactly the way I said it would, so it’s not like I was _surprised_. And she didn’t even say anything that bad, just the usual shit about you, and about my bad decisions, and about how I never should have left home to go to college, you know, with some homophobia thrown in for good measure. It wasn’t even _that bad_, not even close to the worst it’s been.”

Richie nods along, framing Eddie’s face with his hands and kissing his forehead while he talks.

”It’s not even like the stuff she said really hurt me or anything, you know, I’m way past letting her hurt my feelings. It’s just, I can’t stop thinking about how it should’ve happened, how it _would_ have if I had a normal mom. I should have been able to walk in the door with the greatest news of my entire life, that the guy I’ve been in love with since I can _remember_ loves me, too, and - and she should have hugged me, and said something like ‘well of course he does’ and then grilled me about how it happened and when we’re going on our first date and I-” he paused, sniffling and rubbing his face with his shaking hands.“Instead she _screamed_ at me and told me how _stupid_ I am and how big of a _mistake_ I’m making and how she didn’t _raise_ me to turn out like this and I just-” his throat gets too thick to continue, and he buries his head into Richie’s neck as his body is wracked with sobs.

Richie’s heart breaks as he shushes him and ushers him towards the couch. What kind of a monster could look at Eddie - sweet, perfect, Eddie - and say _anything_ intentionally to hurt him like this? It makes his blood boil like he’s never felt before. He has a hard time keeping his hands from tightening into fists as he strokes Eddie’s back, laying them down on the couch together.

He lets Eddie cry for a while, kissing his temple and whispering comforting words in his ear, because he knows Eddie better than himself and he knows that’s what he needs first. Then, once the tears have started to dry, Richie starts to speak.

”Eds, you are _not_ stupid. You’re the smartest fucking person I know! I count on you constantly, to steer me straight, to keep me off the deep-end, to reign in my crazy ideas. _You’re_ the rational one, the one _all_ of us go to when we need advice. Your mom is full of shit, just like she always is - although she’s kind of right about me, I’m a bit of a disaster,” Richie teases, and his heart warms when Eddie coughs a wet laugh into his chest.

”And I know you’re disappointed that she can’t be like a normal mom, that she can’t be happy for you, and it _really fucking sucks_ that you don’t get to have that, but you know what? You don’t need it. You don’t need your mom to pat you on the back and be happy for you - it’s not like you’ve ever gotten it before, and look where you are now! You’re a junior in college, with straight A’s, a loyal group of friends, somehow you’re mostly mentally healthy, and you have a boyfriend who loves you and will do literally fucking anything for you. And you have all of that whether or not your mom is behind you,” he finishes, looking down to see if his speech worked.

Eddie pulls back and meets his gaze with a small smile, and even with his puffy face covered in tears he’s still so gorgeous Richie could die. Eddie kisses him sweetly and presses their foreheads together. 

”Thanks, Rich. You always know exactly what to say, which is funny because I wasn’t even sure you knew how to read,” Eddie teases, some of the light coming back into his eyes.

”Are you- are you fucking kidding me? Now? After that amazing speech?” Richie squawks in outrage.

Eddie laughs, resting his head on Richie’s chest and wiping his tears into his shirt.

”Of course I know what to say, Eds, I’ve been fielding your emotional breakdowns since we were 8,” Richie reminds him, petting his hair. Then, he pulls his final trick out of his sleeve. “Hey, I haven’t told my parents about us yet. They already know I’m gay, so we don’t get to drop that bomb tonight, but we could go tell them about our relationship, together. I’m sure my parents’ reactions will be a little closer to what you were hoping for - at the very least, my mom’ll probably cry and hug us,” he offers like it’s no big deal, but he knows it’s exactly what Eddie needs. What can he say, he fuckin’ knows the guy.

Eddie looks up with fresh tears shining in his eyes. “Rich, you’re seriously the best. What did I ever do to deserve you?”

He leans forward and presses their lips together again. Aw, shit, now Richie’s gonna cry.

”You probably broke a mirror or something, and instead of bad luck the universe sent me,” he grins, pulling back from Eddie’s lips before they can make any tears spill over. “Now come on, if we wanna tell my folks tonight we’ve gotta do it before my dad falls asleep on the couch watching NBC.”

It goes pretty much exactly like Richie said it would, with the added element that apparently, his parents aren’t surprised _at all_. Like, shit, he knows that he always _felt_ obvious around Eddie, but he’d always hoped that was his gay paranoia talking. Now, he realizes that he should have been way more worried about Eddie finding out than he was; he’s not subtle at _all_! They get an awkward condom talk from his dad that somehow transitions into a history lesson about the AIDS epidemic of the 80’s, and then they’re shooed away so his parents can finish their episode of Law and Order: SVU. Apparently, their relationship is less important than God Damn Mariska Hargitay. Fucking typical. Hardly half an hour passes from the moment they step into the living room to their entry back into the basement. Richie almost wants more fanfare, a cake or something, at least, but he can tell that it was plenty for its target audience.

Eddie turns to him once they’re sitting back on the couch, grinning maniacally. “Richie, that was perfect.”

_Fucking called it._

“Yeah, well, you know me, I have a good idea once every few years. The stars must be aligned as _shit_ right now because I’m pretty sure I had another one, like, a couple of months ago. This is a personal record - you really bring out the best in me.”

Richie’s being a shit right now, but it’s true! He’s being, like, compassionate and shit. Not that he didn’t do nice stuff for Eddie before, mixed in with his usual general assholery, but now he doesn’t have to worry about whether his actions reveal too much - everything’s out in the open now, and it’s fucking awesome! Okay well maybe not _everything_ is out in the open, like, for instance, Eddie never has to know that Richie jerked off to that one shirtless picture on his facebook profile for _well_ into senior year of high school, but still. He doesn’t have to watch what he says anymore, which is a huge fucking relief for him and his big-ass mouth.

“Look, can we be done with all of this emotional garbage now and get back to why we’re really here? Mortal Kombat? Just because you’re my boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m gonna go easy on you, you know. Tough love, kid.”

Eddie definitely sees completely through Richie and his deflective bullshit, but he just sighs exasperatedly and shakes his head.

“I’m only a month younger than you, jackass,” Eddie retorts, picking up his Playstation controller.

Richie clutches his chest and puts on his best (i.e. worst) wheezing old man voice. “Back in my day, young people respected their elders.”

Eddie sighs. "Jesus fucking Christ.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, chapter two of our two favorite morons being adorable and mildly disgusting at the same time! Sorry that this took so long, I was originally gonna make this chapter longer but I realized that I could end this one here and get it out to you now! I'm sure we could all use something good in this COVID-ridden world we're living in right now, and I hope this new chapter (and this work) can be part of that for you! I love you, and I really appreciate all comments and kudos y'all leave- it means a lot to me! Please let me know if you find any typos, errors, etc. and feel free to chat with me on here OR follow me on instagram @Jeff_the_Slender! Okay I'm done bye! (P.S. let me know if you want more? I know I have some planned but it would be nice to know whether anyone actually wants me to continue lol ok xoxo bye!)


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